


I Didn't Need a Sunrise (When the Moon Was My Friend)

by Jinx_Blink



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst with a Happy Ending, Beau has ADHD, F/F, Grief/Mourning, M/M, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-03
Updated: 2020-01-03
Packaged: 2021-02-27 11:54:52
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,252
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22106650
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jinx_Blink/pseuds/Jinx_Blink
Summary: The dead cannot judge her, and so that is who Beauregard talks to.Or: In which Beau grieves for Mollymauk, and how each of the Nein support/grieve with her.~~~Tags will be updated as the fic progresses.
Relationships: Past Caleb Widogast/Mollymauk Tealeaf, Past Widomauk
Kudos: 20





	I Didn't Need a Sunrise (When the Moon Was My Friend)

**Author's Note:**

> Fjord offers his silent solidarity to Beau

For once, it is not the haze of drunkenness that has her vision swimming and her limbs shaking. It is tears, it is the horrible sensation of existing far too much and somehow not enough at the same time.

She's not weak, Beau knows she is the farthest thing from _weak_ \- or is she? Her mind is a traitor and tells her otherwise- but sometimes it just all gets to be far, far too much and-

Well here she is, lying limp on her side atop the roof of Jester's house, doing her best to quiet her shaky breathing.

Coming outside, that was a good choice, she thinks distantly. The roof shingles are rough on her skin, the air cold enough to make her hair stand on end but calm enough that she can just sit and feel as much or as little as she wants to. When she'd woken up, the air had been stifling, the blankets so warm, the walls had pressed in and in on her like a coffin. And truly, she doesn't even know what woke her. She doesn't remember dreaming or having a nightmare, but she's willing to hazard a bet that it was one of those, given the absolute state she'd woken in.

Gracelessly, she rolls onto her back, focuses on the shingles scraping at the skin of her bare arms. With hands that only tremble slightly, she pushes the loose hairs back from her face and stares up at the half-moon blankly for a moment before a realization dawns upon her.

It's Molly's birthday.

Or, it would be, if they were still alive to see it. Maybe that's what's been eating at her.

That, and a million other things, but that most of all. Hardly a year has passed since Molly got caught in the crossfire of a turf war and Beau is having the sudden epiphany that she hasn't really dealt with it at all.

"I'm fucking crazy right? Losing my shit like this. It's stupid, this is stupid, I'm being fucking stupid." The words bubble from her throat into the night as she stares at the moon, so listless and filled with a raw, aching feeling. She's been fine until now, she was doing _fine_.

Unbidden, the memory of that horrible fucking phone call comes back to her, how utterly furious she'd been with herself that she'd hung back with Caleb and Nott to grab some coffee while the rest of their friends had gone ahead to park. The absolute panic that had made Jester's voice raw at the edges, the sound of gunfire in the background, how it all started to blur together until the next thing she knew, she had been sprinting head-first into a fire-fight and scanning the park grounds for even a blur of green, blue, or purple.

And then it was the funeral, the falling out she'd had with Yasha (that she was still trying so hard to mend, she hadn't even meant to get angry, she was just so scared every time she woke up to find Yasha gone), the total blow-out that had lead to her father throwing her out of the house.

"Molly, you fucked us all up when you went and fucking died." Her voice sounds like a tin of rusty nails rattling about and the admission hurts worse than anything, but finally, something in her chest loosens up and the words don't spill, but instead fall from her mouth haltingly.

"You don't even know how hard it was for us to pull back together after that shit. Fjord's got survivor's guilt out the ass, Jester still freaks out any time she hears banging noises. Yasha doesn't sleep at all half the time. Caleb only just started talking to us again." And here she pauses, here the words stop up in her throat and threaten to choke her unless she can get them out fast enough.

"And I don't know what I'm really doing anymore without you. Everything feels like it's too calm, like I'm too much. I don't… I don't fucking want to, to just keep acting like everything's going to be fine. Everybody says it gets better, that it stops hurting eventually. But how fucked up is that, to sit there and act like you aren't important enough for us to keep missing you."

If her voice cracks, there's no one there to hear. If tears start burning her eyes and leaving hot trails on her cheeks, the only one who will notice is the moon.

She's said her piece. If she speaks anymore, she'll just start shouting and punching things and then people will be concerned and she won't have any fucking space to herself.

Beau does still sit there on the roof for a few more hours, until her fingers start to go numb from the cold, until the sun starts to brighten the sky and slowly, the moon starts to fade from view.

By the time she makes her way back inside, she's cold enough that she's hardly even shivering anymore and she can hear indistinct shuffling in the kitchen. She makes it about as far as the living room before Fjord comes trudging out of the kitchen with a mug of steaming coffee in his hands.

He blinks blearily at the sight of her- still half asleep, no doubt- before he turns tail back into the kitchen and reappears in mere seconds with another steaming mug that he wordlessly shoves into her hands. She almost drops it, her fingers stiff and numb, but manages to keep her hold. Fjord settles himself at the massive dining room table, scrolling aimlessly on his phone, while Beau folds herself into a ball on the sofa, staring at nothing as she mindlessly rubs her thumb on the chips along the rim of her mug.

Her coffee goes cold, completely untouched. Fjord eventually goes to refill his mug and carefully takes hers as well without her even asking. When he comes back, he hands her a fresh cup of coffee and after a moment, she follows him to the dining room table, sipping at her coffee as she goes.

The morning continues in the same quiet fashion even as their other friends slowly trickle downstairs in various states of wakefulness. Beau finds herself on tea duty for Yasha as well as Caleb, surprisingly enough. Caleb usually lives and breathes coffee, but he ends up with a steaming cup of chai tea. Fjord pours cup after cup of coffee for everybody else as they come, making small talk with them as he does.

Eventually, everyone in their rag tag group is settled in the dining room and they begin to quietly chatter amongst themselves. Nott declares at one point that she's hungry and that she's going to cook breakfast which kicks Fjord and Caleb fully awake in an instant. They coax Nott away from the kitchen with practised ease, Caleb pulling her into a conversation about his studies for his upcoming exams while Fjord gets to actual cooking. Before long Jester and Fjord are causing chaos in the kitchen (well, mostly Jester) while the rest of them banter loudly at the table.

The ache is ever-present in Beau's mind, the ache of a missing voice, of a room less colorful than it should be, but nonetheless… Sitting at this table feels something like a homecoming and for the first time since she woke up, she feels like she can actually breathe past her grief.


End file.
